


Ambiguity

by machi_kun



Series: what we share (and what we hide) [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Meta, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, POV Steve Rogers, Pining, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Protective Natasha Romanov, Unrequited Love, can be read as a stand-alone, context in the notes if you want that, marvel deal with it, steve is a WWII soldier and he curses, this one is on you guys, you voted for this you were the ones who wanted to see him sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21525481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machi_kun/pseuds/machi_kun
Summary: 63 hours – that’s when the call came in. Trough War Machine’s suit, which none of them had even dared to look at since the battle, the painful reminder too raw for them to even think about it, let alone touch – That’s when it had happened.They heard Tony’s voice.And Steve, who had writhed in silence over another lost chance, who had realized that this is what his life would always be like, his curse, to watch the people he cares about to be taken away by the shortcomings of his decisions, by his failures; He had dared to hope again.(He is a fool.)
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: what we share (and what we hide) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1013193
Comments: 21
Kudos: 137





	Ambiguity

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a small gift to my readers, to celebrate the 10k hits both stories that compose the main plot for this series! It can be read as a stand-alone, but it does require some context:
> 
> This story diverges from canon right after IW ends. Tony and Nebula manage to get back to Earth on their own, two days after the Snap (we don’t call the most horrifying attack on human race blip in this fucking house), and when they do, they find out that the Earth is still in danger because of the consequences of the Snap. Which means they’ll have to put the team back together because they have no choice. 
> 
> As this is canon until IW, Pepper has survived the Snap and she and Tony are still engaged – hence the pining and unrequited feelings tags. That is all Steve. Steve is very near to realizing he has more than platonic feelings for Tony, but Tony has no indication of feelings from him just yet.
> 
> In the end, survivors of the Battle of Wakanda fly back to the Compound after Tony gets in contact with Rhodey, and they meet for the first time, after two years, at the Compound’s Helipad.
> 
> If you read Suspension of Belief, you’ll know Steve is not at a very good place right now. If you read Trust Fall, you’ll also know how this reunion is incredibly difficult for Tony.
> 
> And now, you’ll know what it was like for Steve.

Rhodes runs out of the Quinjet.

He runs, legs braced inside the casing of the exoskeleton that surrounds his legs and keeps him upright, a sight so alien Steve still isn’t used to yet – and he _runs_ , even so, _runs_ as soon as he’s able to, because there is nothing that could have stopped him from reaching out to the best friend he thought he lost forever less than a few hours ago. There isn’t a single force in this universe, no matter how powerful or vengeful, that could have stopped them from being reunited.

It hurts him, somehow.

Steve hadn’t even had the courage to look outside.

To look through the glass over Natasha’s shoulder as they flew back to New York, to watch the Compound as it came closer and closer, tangible and _finally_ within reach – _home_ , lost long ago to arrogance and mistrust and now so _agonizingly_ near that it made his heart beat like it was exploding, the jitter in his leg acting up again without his permission, stomach churning with a hurricane of anxiety coming alive within him. He hadn’t even been strong enough to do that, despite how obsessively he thought about it every single second during their journey.

But he heard.

“I see him.” Rhodes had choked out, despite the ash and the gray, despite the haze of dust floating in the air like the thickest of winter fogs, scratching like sandpaper every time they do so much as breathing in – past it all, past the dust of the fallen who has swallowed the world whole in less than a few seconds, Rhodes had _seen him_ , and nothing would have stopped him from screaming his name and rushing to hold him in his arms after two agonizing days of believing his best friend was dead.

Of course.

Of course he ran.

If Steve had any right to do so, he would have done the same.

“Steve.”

Tony is alive.

_Alive._

_He’s alive, he’s here, he’s **home**_.

The thought makes him freeze where he stands.

Steve hadn’t—

He… He doesn’t know what he should _do._ Tony is out there. Right there, at the rooftop, just outside those doors. He knows what he _wants_ to do, what he had wanted – wanted for so long, for years, hopelessly fantasizing about this moment because he couldn’t _not_ believe it wouldn’t come. He feared it wouldn’t, but he just couldn’t stop _hoping._ It had hurt, to hope for it, knowing – realizing – that how they had left things was so bad he could have lost something he hadn’t even known he would miss so badly. The years on the run were consuming, all-encompassing dread and loathing, so full of emptiness he couldn’t ever fill, and it always came back to this—

To Tony, and all the ways he and Steve failed so hard to meet in the middle. To truly express what they thought and felt about each other.

Steve halts because he still doesn’t know, truly. He doesn’t what he should do when he steps out of the Quinjet doors. There are so many words that have been trapped inside his chest, so many things he wish he could say but he physically doesn’t feel able to – and he’s afraid, even if he won’t admit it, he’s afraid of seeing Tony again after so long and somehow realize they are now strangers.

He doesn’t want that.

God.

He just wants to feel like he’s _home_ again.

He—

He thought Tony was gone. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about it when Thanos came, he didn’t – he had refused to think about it, he draped himself under the safety of the rush of adrenaline that came with wearing the cloak for the soldier, the weight of responsibility the took upon himself every time he allowed the persona of _Captain America_ to wash over him, like a current, pushing away all thoughts other than battle out of his mind. It was better, it was _safer_ , somehow, _safer_ to throw himself into the war and put himself in direct line of sight of the strongest enemy they’ve ever faced; That was still safer than face the possibility that Tony had already fallen in some other battlefield Steve couldn’t reach. Of all wounds, Steve could have taken anything, anything but such a strike to his heart at that moment.

But when the dust… When it started —

How could he not think the worst. How could he not. He had hoped so desperately, so quietly, every hour after the snap of Thanos’ fingers a burning pit of aching pleas and prayers dying inside his body even before they could reach his tongue, a naïve hope for the best that would lead nowhere; And shame seizing his heart in face of Rhodes’ immensurable grief, his visible and tangible agony over the unknown fate of his best friend, of his _family,_ and Steve had had no _right_ to act as if his feelings on it were of any importance.

He had stood quietly to the side, mouth shut, head dropped low, and whenever he thought of anything, he thought of Bucky and Sam and Wanda and Vision, anyone other than Tony, and he would cry all the same, not making a single sound.

It wasn’t any better.

Because it always came back around to Tony. It always did. Because – he hadn’t called, _shit_ , and Steve couldn’t know what had happened to him. By the time they could leave Wakanda after the search for Sam had proven itself useless, they’ve been awake for so long and so sick to their very souls as the realization of just how much they had _lost_ was finally settling in, the very idea of going back to the Compound had hurt. So they had no way of knowing. Steve had ached, had beaten himself up over the feeling that it was _his_ fault, it was _his_ choice that kept them apart and he _promised_ , he promised he would be there when Tony needed him and that they would win together, but like everything else, his promises had fallen apart and he _lost_ Tony again.

How was it possible that he had survived when so many people, when Bucky and Tony had been ripped from the Earth just like that. Why was he the one who survived every time? Why – Why.

He spent three days suffering over it. 63 hours – that’s when the call came in. Trough War Machine’s suit, which none of them had even _dared_ to look at since the battle, the painful reminder too raw for them to even think about it, let alone touch – That’s when it had happened.

They heard Tony’s voice.

And Steve, who had writhed in silence over another lost chance, who had realized that this is what his life would always be like, his curse, to watch the people he cares about to be taken away by the shortcomings of his decisions, by his failures; He had dared to hope again.

Hope is such a dangerous thing.

“ _Steve_.” Natasha calls, again, and her words sound wet and hoarse. Her hands are curled in fists, so hard they sink nail into flesh. “He’s here. We’re here. Let’s _go._ ”

Rhodes dashed out as soon as he could. Natasha, as quickly as she could, killed the turbines and jumped out of the seat, pausing only to try and shake Steve out of his stupor, without much success, he admits. But even for her, who has far more control than any of them over her emotions, is so rattled that not even her concern for Steve’s lack of response is enough to keep her away from the opportunity to see Tony again after years of no contact.

Through it all, even though she had never said so, not in so many words, Steve had always known that Natasha’s feelings of protectiveness for Tony ran far deeper than she’d like them to believe. For Steve, Natasha had displayed undying loyalty, far more than he deserved, truly – but for Tony, what she felt was softer, almost more dangerous in its vulnerability, and if he were any capable of giving this thought any attention, he would realize how important this is. But he can't.

Thor and Bruce get up from their seats stiffly behind her, swaying dizzily from the fast trip and the emotional toll of what is about to happen, the stress and fear that has built up inside them during every single waking hour since – _since._ And Rocket follows them, confused, because – How else would he feel, really. How else, when he is… When he’s truly the most stranded out of all of them, the one who came from far away and was left with nothing, nothing but the company of people he barely knew, and all forms of contact the attempted to find his own team only came back with silence and more dread?

Even so, he steps out first. Even so, he’s braver than Steve.

Because Steve stays sitting inside the Quinjet as the others start to leave, as they – as they arrive _home_ , as they _greet_ Tony, and despite it all, reclaim their places in their home and in Tony’s life against all bitterness and past bruises, past all the grief they’ve given each other when they should have known better.

And Steve doesn’t.

Because Steve is a _fucking coward._

Despite his enhanced hearing, Steve doesn’t actually hear a word they are saying to Tony, the blood rushing inside his temples so loud it reminds him of the train in Italy, when Bucky fell, the echo of imminent danger and hurt he can’t identify when he’s deep into his nightmares, just a trigger to a physical reaction that has become harder and harder to justify over the years. He hears the vague tones of a voice he hasn’t heard in years, and that alone is enough to trigger a reaction so strong that makes him break into a cold sweat, the uncertainty of what lies beyond the false safety of the jet’s walls too overwhelming for him to reign his irrational response in.

He has to go.

He has to do it.

(Get up.)

(Get up, Steve.)

( _Face me_.)

Steve begins to step out of the Quinjet, legs stiff and spine straight, palms sweating in a way he can’t remember them ever doing since he got the serum, his body never before this riddled with anxiety since it became what it is today; And every step is a struggle, every step, an audacity so great he almost wants to take it back as soon as he does it. He tries – He tries to keep himself composed, _tries_ not to give away how _desperately_ he wishes he could just run to Tony’s side like Rhodes and Natasha did, but the truth is that Steve can’t. He can’t.

Rhodes is his brother, in all but blood. Rhodes and Tony are not unlike him and Bucky – _fuck_ , Bucky – and had it been him, of course he would have run. And Natasha, even through it all, even if somehow whatever she did last had wounded Tony somehow, she had never, ever, wounded Tony like _Steve_ had.

Steve had hurt him so much, so deeply.

He’s almost afraid—

It’s stupid, he knows, he’s an _idiot_ , but—

He’s almost afraid that Tony won’t _be there_ , when he dares to look.

For Thanos’ fault, or the ashes fault, or Steve’s own fault – he doesn’t even know, but there are so many reasons why Tony could refuse to see him and Steve can’t handle it. Not now, not after he has lost so much. Not after thinking he’d lost Tony only to find out he didn’t. He would never deny Tony his right of telling Steve to leave – not now, at least. Not anymore. He knows better. If Tony tells him to leave, he will, even if he has to do it alone, and leave the others to stay at the Compound while he finds some other place to stay while he… While he figures out how he’s supposed to act next. He would, if Tony asked him to.

But he doesn’t _want_ to.

He doesn’t want to, he _doesn’t._

He wants to _see_ Tony, wants to talk to him, to be sure he’s here and alive and safe and that it’s not too late for them, for the team. That they’re not beyond repair, and Steve is willing to do anything to prove to him that he’ll _listen_ , this time. God, he wishes it wasn’t so hard on him, that he wasn’t so messed up – he wishes he could admit how much he missed Tony, how hellish the past years have been on him, how he learned things about himself he had no idea existed and it took a lot of pain and arguing and worrying, but he’d _keep doing it_ if it meant Tony would talk to him. He wishes he could _say_ that, but the words would never make it out of his mouth.

He wants to tell Tony—

**_Tony is here._ **

Oh God.

Oh God. Rhodes wasn’t lying.

There he is.

Steve can see him.

_Tony._

_Tony._

_Tony._

_God, **Tony.**_

He’s alive—

_Thank God, he’s—_

He’s alive, he’s _home—_

He _is_ home.

There is no sunlight to illuminate him like a vision from the skies, there is no song, there is no major revelation in the air – not beyond Steve’s own, quiet, invisible, the string inside his chest that somehow snaps itself against his will, like a curtain has been lifted before his eyes and he can finally see clearly, despite the fog of ash surrounding them and the cold, dark embrace of a night that comes much earlier than it should.

Steve should be freezing, but he’s absolutely _burning._

Fuck, Steve has missed him so much. So fucking much. He didn’t – he didn’t know. He hadn’t realized it would feel so _strong,_ so _raw_ to see him. It does. It feels like he’s been gutted with a dull knife, a feeling unlike any other wound Steve has ever gotten, something that echoes from so far within that he can’t even pinpoint its source. It’s like it reverberates from his very _soul._

He could never forget what Tony looked like, but in this moment, Steve feels like he’s seeing him for the first time in his life. This is what it feels like – to come _back_ from the war, to come _home_ , the weary soldier who finally steps out and back into the embrace of the familiar, of home and loved ones, that finds a safe harbor to rest when all around him falls apart. This is what it _feels_ like, and he – God, he didn’t _know._

He’s _home._ They’re both _home._

Tony is here. Tony made it. Fuck – their friends are gone, they are _gone_ , but Tony made it and Steve – They’re here.

_Together._

That, above all, is what makes his heart squeeze the hardest.

Tony looks _older._ He looks – Steve almost drinks in the sight of him, all the small differences, like it’s the oxygen he has been so desperately missing in the past few days. The grayish tint to his hair, the worry lines on his face, the sag on his stance – there is defeat to him, just like Steve knows there is to himself, to all of them; And it kills him a little to remember that Tony was out there for hours, with Spiderman and the other guy Bruce had told them about, the guardian of the Time Stone – and now Tony is back here _alone._

_Wasn’t Spiderman—_

(Spiderman has just a _kid_ , Steve.)

(God, he was just a _kid._ )

Steve can’t see them anywhere. There’s Tony, there’s Rhodes and Nat and Bruce and Thor, there’s Rocket and a _blue woman_ Steve has never seen before, and there’s _Pepper._

 _Pepper_. She’s made it too.

In his chest, something that is both relief and dread flare out like a warning sign, exploding in red and sparks of heat, and it’s nauseating that he can even feel the slightest twinge of anything other than the most intense happiness for Tony for not having lost his fiancé. But he does. He does, because Steve is a weak man, and somewhere inside, somewhere he won’t admit exists not even to himself, feels even worse when he sees Pepper on his side, feels even more lost, because Pepper is a blind spot in Steve’s vision, a person that Steve doesn’t know well and cannot predict, and the possibility of Tony refusing to give him the smallest chance to make amends and rebuild trust between them in favor of leaving with Pepper again, away from them, to never return – selfishly, it makes Steve resent Pepper a little, because Steve is beyond the point where he can pretend to be good, to be charitable, to feign to be anything other than the wreck that he really is.

But right now, she will not stop him.

If this is the only chance he will have to speak to Tony—

(It won’t be.)

(It _can’t_ be.)

(You know that.)

He will step forward, even if it hurts, even if it feels like every step is a physical blow.

So he walks out of the Quinjet.

And Tony’s face _falls._

His mouth clicks shut so hard it’s a surprise he doesn’t wince, jaw locking up and shoulders squaring up, eyes boring into Steve so intensely it’s almost like they could burn holes through him, like the repulsors in his armor. He’s bare and vulnerable, just in a T-shirt and what looks like dark gray tracksuit pants, eyes sunken in with exhaustion and unkempt appearance, a frenzied, restless look he knows matches their own after so many hours without sleep, but somehow, this is the most guarded Steve has ever seen him. He looks like—

Like he’s deciding if Steve is an enemy or a friend. Like he’s panicking, a little, and if he had the armor, Steve isn’t sure he wouldn’t have called it on instinct.

Like he’d been hoping Steve wouldn’t be in the Quinjet with the others. That he wouldn’t _dare_ – but Steve had dared, because he is a fool, and not once, nor _once_ had it occurred to him that Tony could feel this way after so many years apart.

Angry, yes. Hateful, even, yes. Steve had dealt with Tony’s hate before. Steve had felt Tony’s _fists_ before. Maybe it had been arrogant of him, maybe too presumptuous of him, be he had thought if that had been all, maybe he still could salvage them. Steve isn’t scared of _rage._ Rage is what he has, it’s the way of the soldier, and he can push through rage all day, over and over again, he can take the blows and he can fight the fight, and he couldn’t care.

But not _once_ had it occurred to him—

That Tony might be _afraid_ of him.

(It’s so easy to forget, isn’t it.)

(When you’re desperate.)

(So easy to forget that, even though I’m not gone)

(Whatever we had is.)

No one says anything. No one tries.

The tension between them is so thick it’s even worse than the fog of the dust, even worse than the deep dark of the night.

They stand no farther than a few feet apart, and Steve has _never_ felt so distant from Tony before. Not even when he’d been on the run.

Because then, there was always the illusion that Tony might want him back. Might want _them_ back here.

Now that illusion has shattered.

Now he knows the truth.

Tony _doesn’t._

“Tony.” He says, because he has to say _something_ – his name, Steve can only manage his name, because Tony’s name feels like an entire sentence in his tongue, an entire speech, a string of long overdue apologies, a plea to be taken back, a fight just waiting to happen, everything at once. He can’t choose one, he can’t _act_ because he doesn’t know what Tony will _do_ if he does, so he just calls his name, and _dares to hope_ it’ll mean _something_ to Tony as it does to him.

“Rogers.”, Tony replies.

Oh.

_Rogers._

Ok.

Ok.

( _Fuck._ )

So _this_ is where they stand.

_God—_

Ok.

(Steve—)

Steve is a fool. Steve is a fucking idiot, _God_ , he’s such an idiot.

How could he—

How could he even dared to hope for anything other than this.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He says, because… Because it’s true. It is true. And it might be the only truth Tony will allow him to say, the only one that will not explode in their faces, the only tentative attempt at politeness and a semblance of amicability that will be able to hold on in spite of the gap between them that, apparently, will never close.

Tony doesn’t react. He just stares at Steve, and Steve stares back, because he’s weak, because he’s a fool, and he’s been reduced to ache for any crumbs of attention Tony Stark might give him, to fruitlessly hope that he somehow will find a chance to make things right again, even though all evidence says otherwise.

T’Challa had been right, it seems. Again. When wasn’t he?

Giving up is not something Steve knows how to do.

( _Christ_ , T’Challa, _no._ )

There’s a scream from behind Tony, shrill and rough and laced in pain, and they all turn back to stare at Rocket, as he paces and fumbles at the blue woman’s feet, yelling pleas for answers about the location of his team, aggressiveness and sorrow bleeding together in one wet sob as he begs her to _stop lying._

She is not lying, she says.

They didn’t make it.

Rocket screams into the night like his heart is being ripped out of his chest, and the feeling echoes in Steve’s chest, in all of them, and they can’t do anything but watch as Rocket breaks down, completely, and the blue woman can’t react in any other way than placing a hand on his shoulder, gripping tight, probably past the point of pain, as her own face twists into a grimace in a feeble attempt to hold back her own tears.

Tony stares at them too. He doesn’t look back at Steve.

His back turned to him, completely vulnerable and exposed.

(Afraid.)

(But not completely.)

Steve’s breath hitches.

In his pockets, quietly, the hidden flip phones feel like they burn.

**Author's Note:**

> That's one more for the angst pile, I guess! SKJDFHSKJDFHKSJDHFJ 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, if you're just passing by - And thank you so much, if you are a reader who has been following this series every single chapter! I hope you can all enjoy this fic, in some way <3 If you are new here, you are more than welcome to visit the previous parts of this series and take a look, it's a long ride, but I promise it's worth it ;)
> 
> And if you are one of the people who have been supporting me, cheering me on, in every chapter, every new turn of this series - I hope you know how much I appreciate you, how much it means to me that you've given my work a chance, and I hope you have as much fun with it as I do. 
> 
> Thank you all again! If you like my fics, please consider checking out [this post](https://machi-kun.tumblr.com/post/183594385185/hello-friends-im-opening-slots-for-writing) or [this post](https://twitter.com/machi__kun/status/1156936827313545217) to see other ways you can support me or request something! I hope to see you all in the next one <3


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